


Talk Me Through It

by lucymonster



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Enemy Lovers, F/M, Femdom, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Sexual Dysfunction, guided masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-01 23:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: Rey doesn't have to touch Kylo to make him fall apart.





	Talk Me Through It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pleurer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/gifts).

‘Spread your legs,’ Rey’s apparition says, cold and somehow distant through the shimmering filter of their Force bond. ‘I want to see everything.’

He'll never understand her.

She’s told him so many times that they’re done. They’re over, they’ve chosen different sides, and with Snoke dead there’s nothing to bind them together. She keeps coming back anyway. Usually in the moments when he’s least equipped to see her.

Kylo spreads his legs for her anyway. If she wants an up-close view of his cock and balls then there’s no real reason not to give it to her. Not when it’s such a stroke of twisted luck that there’s anything to see at all, that Kylo chose this particular night to try something that hasn’t worked for years. There’s never much point in pleasuring himself, because he never comes. His cock throbs with frustration until it goes numb in his grip, and his heart beats faster and faster until he's sure it’s going to fail under all the irrational fear: someone’s watching him, there’s a camera hidden in his room, there’s a mind-reading father figure lurking in the back of his thoughts and taking note of his every shameful fantasy. 

This time there really is someone watching. At least it’s not Snoke. And although Rey doesn’t look impressed, exactly, he’s finding that her extra set of eyes isn’t the horrifying mood-killer he thought it would be. She’s looking at him, appraising his equipment, inspecting him in an intimate way that no one ever has, and actually, he feels kind of…

‘Your grip’s too tight,’ says Rey. ‘Look at you, you’re turning purple. Ease up a bit.’

‘I didn’t ask for spectator feedback,’ Kylo snaps. He also does as he’s told.

‘Are you even using lube? Put some lotion on it. And use your other hand to play with your balls.’

Brisk. Sharp. Impatient, like he’s a student of hers acting up in class. He should tell her to go jump out an airlock. Should tell her it’s only a matter of time until he tracks down what’s left of her fleet and blows her and everyone else in it to space dust. Instead, he takes a pump of hand cream from the nightstand and slicks himself all over, and the smooth sensation is such a change that for a moment his eyes scrunch closed and he loses sight of Rey.

‘There.’ Her voice makes him look again. ‘That feels better, doesn’t it?’

It does. Oh, it does. It’s not that Kylo needs her to tell him how to handle his own cock – for fuck’s sake, he knows about hand cream. It just always seems like more trouble than it’s worth, all the mess, all the clean-up. He likes it fast and furtive and efficient. Except he doesn’t, not really, because it never goes anywhere and he always gives up in disgust. This is different. Oh, Force, this is–

‘Slow down. Slower. Slower, Ben.’ Rey’s voice is closer now, less distant, less echoey. ‘Play with your balls – yes, like that. Rub the head, but only gently. Pretend I’m the one touching you.’

He doesn’t even have time to conjure up a fantasy image. Just the sound of those words from her mouth is so much that he has to stop, hand frozen in place, gasping as he stares up at her. ‘Will you–’

She rolls her eyes. ‘Absolutely not. It’s your own fault I can’t be there for real, and you know it. At least let me see what I’m missing. Keep stroking. I want you to come all over yourself.’

He does. He comes embarrassingly fast, and it’s like a dam bursting open, like years of repression pouring out of him at once. He comes so hard that he can’t even scream, vocal chords locked in a rictus of pleasure, and when vision returns he’s sticky with semen and Rey’s Force apparition is gone.

He lies flat on his back on the bed and shakes all over.


End file.
